Mucking around in boats (nothing better)

The herding of cats went much smoother this morning. Thanks to a well worked out team plan and prior prep the togs got included and indeed got a good work out later as a result.

Due to a lot of hard work by the social committee we were up, fed, lunches packed, out the door, into the mules and on our separate ways to the same goal by 9:15.  Bad Panda went south full of the DILs & SIL.

The MILs and FILs went north to Argostoli Harbour where we snagged a reasonable parking spot and strolled the final 600 meters to meet our boat hire dude. They were busy, so it took about an hour of phaffing, signing, paying, training, loading etc to get underway. Our vehicles for the days adventure were two runabouts with 30 hp outboards, bimini covers, fold out ladders, built in eskies, all the safety gear stashed away somewhere and generally enablers of a great day out. Basically this would quite simply not happen back in Aus. Bureaucrates there would have conniptions if they found out someone was letting tourists have so much fun without them getting involved. This involvement would consist of introducing enough impractical conditions to ensure the industry would not survive. They'd get a bonus though. Here, however all you need is proof of ID and the ability to prove you can control the vehicle adequately for a couple of minutes. Which this blogger (who is actually qualified for this stuff at home) did, took control of the beast and we headed of for a 3 hour cruise...a three hour cruise. Actually had 6 to muck around in, however with roles of the classic TV show pretty much aligned nicely it was hard to get the tune out of your head once it was implanted.
Free of the harbour restrictions we sped away around the cape and down the coast to rendezvous with the kids at White Rocks beach.

It's a curious name. This beach has been there since the beginning of recorded human history and they call it that. Sure the rocks are white, just seems like an incredibly lazy effort for a people that can call a street Papachristodoulopoulos Drive. They could've called that one Black Bitumen Drive but didn't.
Anyway, we met the second boat, offshore as we're not allowed to beach the beasts for obvious reasons (damage to the craft), but we can use the anchors so we did that and swam between the beasts, visiting each other and generally splashing around. Thanks to your bloggers previous gopro watersafe engineering efforts we managed to capture some really boring underwater videos as well as the usual plethora of pics on the devices. Boring because as it turns out there is not much happening under the surface of that amazing coloured waterway. Lots of sea grass and a few small fish. Figure the big ones are all being consumed by the folks in the restaurants. Still it was worth the effort and lots of fun.
Now that we were teamed up again and that spot seemed a bit crowded the two skippers fired off across the apparently calm waters towards an island a few ks offshore. Little did we realise that the wake of a cruise liner was heading our way. SIL was paying close attention and managed to slow down for the second wave. Your blogger was not (distracted by a gopro) and subsequently managed to get the craft airborne, pretty much creating an underpants cleaning situation for the passengers. Only one broken bimini strap and dented ego were the outcomes. Moored off the island was pleasant.
Larger vessels were parked on the shore and had gangplanks to enable the occupants the opportunity to escape the crowded conditions on-board for a while. With the armada of tourist boats having ploughed towards us like a scene out of a pirate movie,  our lot waited until the next port of call before the need to touch solid land overwhelmed them and they all swam to shore leaving blogger to his own devices (those being a gopro and a stereo).

This beach was an isolated red sand one at the base of some bright cliffs. Little did they realise it was a strictly nudist beach. Which was ok until some dodgy character arrived out of nowhere and demanded they get their gear off. Not really, he just traipsed along the entire length, set up camp and went swimming. Our lot were back on board by then and we were heading off around the corner to moor off another picturesque spot out of the wind and hung there for a bit, swapping between vessels and eventually the girls did a bit of synchronized swimming. Time enough to practice for the Olympics next month.

The two vessels parted ways then, the oldies cutting their way across the rough waters trying to find the best path against the wind and associated chop whilst the young ones headed south into some large swells and a rollercoaster ride to get back to their base.

Arriving back to the compound we still had many hours of daylight to while away. This was achieved with aplomb with  G&Ts by the pool with Sammi earning his keep with transportation of weary travelers over the glistening surface of the refreshing liquid below. Or when unattended, continued his journey of gliding gracefully from one end to the other, seemingly with self purpose and ability.
With both cameras frantically capturing the best angles of the setting sun a game of walk through chess was held between blogger and OSno.1. Certainly out of touch as far as the nuances of that game goes. Stress levels increased by the walk around the pieces nature and the fact that it was being recorded. Good fun nevertheless.

Claire's entry into the margaritas competition was a delightful blend of all sorts of flavors. Fig and ginger predominantly displaying a strong presence and thus creating an aura of mystery and resulting delight with each sip. Have come to realise the best way to consume these bevvies is by working your way around the rim.

The spectacular mountain that dominates the eastern frame of view was showing off again as the sun slipped away, pinpointing particular peaks as it partook its passage.
Dinner was another gastronomic delight put on by the team with master chef Andy at the helm. We have definitely fallen into local time eating once the sun goes down around 10 pm.
Most of the crew collapsed for the night before the TOD reset to zero.

The holiday rythym

There do not seem to be many sparrows in these parts creating the orchestral rhythm of the morning that we've come to expect recently. In order to explore this further the camera was set up before sunrise and left to record whatever happens while this blogger returned to the luxurious bed in the lower wing of the palace that is currently called home. Outcomes will be consumed and critiqued at a later point in time.

Missed out on the 2 point something earthquake that happened later on.

When we all decided to emerge (OS no. 1 was up long before everyone else though enjoying Sammi's company at the expense of the rest of the world) the tripod was over and we discovered later on the solar heating had sprung a leak. Upon reflection the quake may have triggered this. No doubt it was due to fail anyway. Nothing like the quake that devastated the entire island in 52/3 which apparently was a doozey.
The day was pretty much filled in by the occupants moving around the palace as they felt they wanted to. Planning next adventures, having breakfast, dips in the pool (involving lots of Sammi hugs) then maybe having another breakfast 3 hours later because it still feels like it's the morning (time check 13:30..WTF?). Your blogger filled in the time cleaning up yesterdays entry and constructing mechanical washers to support the gopro underwater capability. Could've gone into town with OSno.1 and non-blogger to purchase an OOTB product instead. At $100 au for something that's at home in au it was a wise choice to stay by the pool. They eventually returned happy with their goods. And a new pair of independent coured togs for your blogger. If these are left behind there will be no forgiveness. OSno.1 showing a natural capability of driving on the wrong side of the road in a manual. Proving the philosophy that we chose years ago when she was on her L`s to be worthwhile. Yay for solid family values (which by the way - we seem to be experiencing a significant amount of this week).

Case in point :  the social committee was always going to come up with some sort of activity. This afternoon was a visit to a local winery. All 8 riders into the mules and we were on our way. The red mule is a Fiat Panda. Apparently it struggles in certain aspects, one being the ability to actually have the required resources to get it to (say) go up a hill with confidence unless the aircon is switched off. So you can get where you want to go hot and sweaty or sit there in cool comfort watching the donkeys overtake you. This is a Bad Panda.
Welcome to the fam SIL. Great line. This is exactly what it's all about.
The winery experience was another memory to be locked away and recalled when desired. The descriptions thrown at us by the host were fabulous. Weaving the history of their business into the locale was brilliant. We tasted some wines which (given the overview) may have rated poorly otherwise got some very positive feedback. The term indigenous vines was intriguing. We Aussies love an indigenous story (we're slowly coming to grips with it being part of our cultue) so upon querying the term here means the varieties have been here since ancient Greecian times. Et tu brut and subsequent consequences may have happened after a big session on this stuff.

In typical large group tourist style (7 aussies and 1 pom) we dominated the aural bandwidth. Pity the poor young couple next to us who we could all tell she did not want to be there (no alcohol) and he did (small amounts). We're just hoping they weren't German due to the unchecked before its put out there about how aurally grating the language is.
The extended family group is melding nicely. A different mix traversed home to the compound. MIL1,Osno1 and the FILs in the back seat of the BadPanda went to the local Aldi equivalent to restock, whilst the others went straight back to jump in the pool.
Everyone then contributed to creating dinner except for two. One was your friendly blogger who made himself scarce by pretending to be busy capturing some long winded event elsewhere and OSNo.1 who was constructing her entry into the margaritas competition. Managed to have a dip in the pool while attending to the job of turning on the BBQ whilst everyone else was contributing significantly.

The bar has been lifted in the comp. It will be difficult to beat the Greecian blue salt rimming the glass (let alone the wow factor contents), however there are two entries to go and three nights to deliver. It will be fascinating to see what they can do.
The meal following was quite simply put..amazing. As it transpires FIL1 has a history as a chef in seafood restaurants. Two nights ago he calmly sat back as this blogger pretty much crucified every item that hit the hotplate. Tonight all offers of help were kindly (albeit expertly) rejected. Quite rightly so. Master chief at work here. It was a privilege to consume the outcomes and to be able to eventually contribute in some way by cleaning some of the dishes that SIL had left for this blogger to do.
Consuming this fabulous fare in this extraordinarily luxurious premises in an incredibly picturesque locale whilst being accepted into such a loving family is beyond words.  Well at moment at least....time will tell if they can be found later.

Double Hatting on two beaches

The day was spent in a most productive touristy way with the 8 riders in two mules covering a fair amount of distance checking out selected parts of this large island. Adventure was in the air and after OSno.1 herded the cats we managed to exit the compound mid morning and headed over the hills to Sammi (the namesake blow-up stayed behind to protect the pool).

Crossing the island involves negotiating mountains, and so the underpowered, overloaded beasts were put to the test as we took in the picturesque views of Grecian countryside with the standard olive trees, olde fort ruins on hills, impressive churches and quiet villages strewn along the winding roads as they're generally perched on the sides of impressive mountains. SIL behind the wheel, blogger providing the vibes and snapping scenes. 

OSNo.1 insisted we go see the caves. When we got there the car park was chockers, the queues extensive however backing out was not an option. Some very clever queue reserving was performed by Claire and so it wasn't as painful as a Disneyland scenario. Worked quite well, didn't time it (guessing maybe 30 ish munutes) it kept moving. The attraction at the end was a 15 minute paddle (12 to a boat) maybe 6 boats in action as we moved around a blue pool of water at the base of a hole in the ground.

They'd dug a tunnel to funnel the hordes to and from the water level where the boats moored and where people boarded, were delighted and then alighted after the paddle. Pure tourist trap. What was obviously once a magical hidden treasure was now something that someone is making sqillions out of. It was pleasant and fun and got some good pics and can tick that off. Nobody was complaining. A slight annoyance by the Pom as our extra 3 riders were Aussies as well..just can't escape them. They're everywhere. The group then split, one went off to suss out a beach while the other went to check out the second cave. This was really cool. Because it was underground and the temperature was a welcome relief from the air above.

It was also so because of its cavernous nature and the stalactites and stalagmites aplenty as well as a natural raised podium where apparently artists perform from to lucky crowds below, this indeed a really cool place. 

After stopping at a Cafe to collect iced coffees and cheese pie we caught up with the other half of the group when this blogger realised that the swimming gear was back at the ranch. Hard enough to herd cats to all move at once. Impossible to get them to do all they should at the same time. So therefore had to suffer the indignity of swimming in his underwear. Good advertising for the manufacturer though (except of course not using the body shape they would normally use to sell their product). Didn't really matter here but beach no. 2 it was a bit of a different scenario. We needed to swim because it was hot (has that been mentioned yet?). And after a bit of a frolic in more clear, buoyant warm water where this blogger had another epiphany that also left behind was the goggles, snorkel, and GoPro adaptor for water sports (that had been previously constructed the day before beside the pool in the compound) that there were a few missed opportunities going on here.

Remembered to bring both hats though. The beach was great, rock based (not sand) obviously a little local spot so not too many invading hordes. After spending and hour or so there, we sniffed the eucalyptus tree leaves and headed north along some seriously high winding roads.

A quick stop to take in the view down to Mirtos beach which was baking in the midday heat, showing how the waters get their colours to those above. Glad we weren't down there though as it looked extremely exposed with no natural air con to cool the brow. So onto Fiskardo where we landed at Emblisi Beach. And spent a few good hours there. So whilst you have people of all sizes and all ages in all states of undress, flaunting their beautiful buttocks and other bits, trying to hide the specific bits with strategically positioned minimalistic patches of cloth, its pretty obvious when youve got some idiot who forgot his togs and has to use his underpants as swimwear. Its so obvious as his skin is really white where his shorts normally would be. Grose. How uncouth. For all we know he's been wearing them for a week. On one side, and then possibly the previous week inside out. Grose. Like maybe this is actually how he washes his clothes.? Yeech.. do I really want to bathe in the same water as this potentially disease carrying obviously unsanitartised person?.

Must admit it would have looked even wierder had I have been carrying a kids paddle with a GoPro attached, goggles, snorkel and then filmed them all in the process of doing so.

Still... one person had a clear perspex canoe, maybe anything goes these days.

We had managed to find a great spot in the shade of a big tree and had some fun trying to keep the umbrellas vertical when you have no sand to drive them in to in order to expand our shadow footprint as much as possible.

Beaches made of rocks are really hard to get comfortable on. Especially when trying to lay on them wearing your underwear. Because you know that those others nearby who are sunbathing on their blowup lilos, sipping on their Pina Colada's are surruptiously saying to each other, hey look there's the dude that smelling up our pristine water ways by wearing his unwashed underpants. 

This beach is very pretty. Its a cove of which the edges are lined with sedimentary rocks, conveniently cracked horizontally and split vertically by the elements to create layered ledges to which people can lounge around on as well as being in the shade depending on the time of day.

The rocky beach also has a cafe/bar type shack thingy which pumps non obtrusive vibes into the air as well as goods into the bellies of the people between it and the waters edge.

After hanging there for a few hours the crew decided to go to local restaurant for dinner instead of driving home first. Great choice. Whilst we may not have been in our normal dinner attire, at least this blogger was not in his togs. Yes there were wet underwear patches showing through on some of the crews attire but we got away with it.

Being early yet again we had another fantastic dining feast on the edge of the harbour where the rich people land their little service dinghies (which belong to their yatchs which are moored in the harbour), they step out of the dinghies, straight to the restaurant table, eat their wonderfully fresh Mediterranean based food, possibly grab a few items from the souvenirs shops (just to stay in touch with the common folk you know, by actually personnaly purchasing something in a shop ...hmmm...maybe we should just get the opare to do it, after all we are a tad busy dealing with all this expensive linen clothing and the pressures of the fluctuations of the stockmarket).

When we first walked in past this quaint seaside (UNESCO protected?) area with its nicely painted buildings adorned with cascading bougainvillea of all colour varieties it was pretty much empty. After our fabulous dining experience walking back though it was chockers. This blogger was too worn out to think about capturing a pic of the beautiful couple walking along with a stroller carrying an extremely ugly pug. He (in his linen pants and tossed hair look) spent a long time getting the perfect shot of a local touristy ornament, whilst she (dressed in a double layered black lacy dress thing) did a quick check in the reflections on the sunglasses stand to make sure all was in place. Their kid (matching dads tossed hair look) was querying the value/worth of the toy sword he was waving around. Nothing particularly wrong with any of this, just wish photo was captured to avoid the verbiage. They were a great sample of the A listers who adorn this beautiful place.

The trip back to the compound as the sun went home to Aus took about an hour and half. A spectacular drive and yet for some reason the gopro was sitting at home and the slow TV opportunity capture lost. 

Was a fun drive though. They have some nice roads and SIL did a great job in navigation to get us home safe and sound.

We tried to get enthusiastic about the soccer but the lone Pom in the team went to bed instead of supporting her crew  (so we Aussies collectively agreed that it really is a boring sport....no score after 50 minutes of play...uuurrgghhh)

Sammi the seahorse

Dawn broke over the villa, perched high on the hill the sea below slowly became visible and then gained the magical blue colour that it is renowned for as the light became more intense. To the east of the villa on the hill looms a huge mountain, the recent scars of its dance through time clearly apparent on its upper reaches. It's so high it holds back the full moon appearance by a couple of hours. The sun is more belligerent in its appearance though, by casting significantly more lumens around the place.

By the time its rays decend on the villa on the hill most of the world in these parts has been active for hours. Not so in this joint. Everyone slept in. Even this blogger who had been up, surmised what possibly happened (as above), had breakfast, coffee, cleaned up, sorted the drying clothes and was wondering if the rest of the crew had been slipped a moggi the previous evening before OSno.1 appeared. One by one they eventually all did the same, refreshed, in good spirits and ready to hit the day , starting with straight into the pool for MIL1 and FIL1... and why not. It's there and you can't do this at home (If you could you wouldn't bother to come here). Probably feeling a sense of responsibility OSno.1 finally arranged a possie to head to the local beach to check out the logistics and see if it was safe for backup to follow. Love an adventure. Six of us, two umbrellas and a whole lot of attitude (as in - embracing exploration) headed off on foot, in the now hot midday sun to traverse the roads then the many concrete steps, rocky shore lines in search of the promised sand. Eventually landed in a small crowded cove, found a spot, set up the brollies (an absolutely vital component to the success of the event) and subsequently squatted there for an hour or so.
The water is crystal clear, warm yet the best place to be in the heat and very buoyant due to it's high salt content. We've seen this before so it's hardly worth mentioning, however dear blogger - why possibly miss out on a detail that by doing so would diminish the effectiveness of the verbiage.

A highlight here was the kids jumping off the rock overhang, based on the pushing of their dad. All performed in the natural beauty of the place.
We then treked back by jumping over rocks to a slightly more accessible beach and met FIL1 (Andy) and MIL1 (Julia...and that's it for the intros) and spent a while hangin there. More bodies beautiful on display. If you've got it, flaunt it. And thank you from all of us who don't.
Blogger, non-blogger and OSno.1 then wandered up and enjoyed an iced coffee at the only joint in town before walking back up the hill. Had a nice throw together lunch before heading off in the sliver mule for a supermarket enabled restock. Fun driving a manual for the first time in a long time. Purchased vittals plus a blowup pool floating sea horse which SIL kindly went to the lung busting effort of blowing up. Frolicking in the compound pool then ensued with Sammi leading the herd of animals up and down the waterway. Eventually waterpolo broke out with the two FILs resoundingly beating the team of SIL and DIL.
The restocking enabled an eating in cooking dinner evening,which was kicked off by the first entry in the margaritas competition.

Setting the bar high was Maddie. A fabulous effort. Scores done elsewhere.
Afterwards the feast in the BBQ level of the compound was extraordinary. Not just because of the company but also the salubrious surroundings applying significant enhancements to the scenario. They have a circle of truth lounges as well as a dinning setting.
Sammi the Seahorse was a highlight. It's focus and determination in exiting its natural habitat (the pool) was captured for future slow TV viewing, much to amusement of all.

Eventually tethered by its tail its possibly the highlight capture of the entire trip so far.
It was a memorable evening for all the right reasons. One of them being it was a great end to a great day.
It's probably worth mentioning that this is being wordsmithed whilst luxuriating on a leather lounge, in our whole to ourselves level of the mansion, chilled music playing, no one can hear, they're all asleep in their own isolated environments....awaiting the dawn (lol..not).
Well maybe they can hear... as I can now hear them clunking around above. I'm sure Sammi doesn't mind though.

Transit to another Island

Up early again as its another transition day. Months ago we discovered that they are not running ferries from Corfu to Kefalonia any more, so in order to get to the next leg we needed to catch two flights. Obviously more expensive and a lot more k`s covered (at greater speeds of course).  What caught us out was the extra luggage weight costs which should've been dealt with when booking but something went astray. So the effort of catering for the extra kilos was effectively ripping us off with no recourse. Asked for an extra 8 per person. Looks like the dude on the other end of the line had targets to meet as he managed to throw another 10 in (twice) and so we had enough allowance to also ship a small donkey. Unfortunately we'd left that back at hhe hotel so just got on with the trip. The taxi driver knows how to bargain.

"How much to the airport?"

"23 Euro,  flat rate" (even though they legally have to use their meters)

"Make it 20"
"No 25 it is"
And 25 it was. Not bad for a 7 minute trip as there was literally no traffic to contend with.
He pointed out he had to get up early on a Sunday morning to take us to the airport. Couldn't be bothered pointing out back that there was few of them waiting for a fare and he could've easily have slept in if he wanted.
The great Greek service continues to be delivered...
1st flight OK. Its a small airline, small planes with props and wings on the top, so every window gets a good view of the Greek Islands and coastlines. Pity about the smoke that's hanging around obscuring the bright blue waters of the Mediterranean. Such is life. A three hour stopover at Athens domestic passed seamlessly. Boarding was a bit late and then absolute chaos ensued when getting onto the transit bus. One elderly lady had difficulty in lifting her carry on to the bus. Then we had another, and then another and they just kept on coming. In all there are 40 of them, extremely overloaded and the staff did nothing to help.

Getting onto the plane was even more chaotic as the steps are steep, narrow and with mind willing but body weak definitely in need of help. And the staff did nothing, so it was all up to the fitter other passengers to help. This also included getting these heavy bags into the overheads. A glimpse of the chaos down the isle once we helpers got on revealed cases trying to be put in the overheads with the handles still extended. Its amazing there were no injuries. They have overhead bag check size thingies at the gate. No one used them, the staff don't enforce the use so some bags are forced into the constricted space under duress. Of course they will not come out smoothly. Duh. The stewardess suggested to the helpers that the bags should have gone instead into the luggage section. That was really helpful.... as she was watching the whole delaying difficult scene playout without interjecting once and then saying how we should have done it differently after it was complete.
The flight to Kefalonia was short enough to only make some blog words and when we landed were in no position to help anyone as there is a very troublesome human trait to leap up and grab your stuff as soon as the seat belt light goes off. As if it's actually going to make your exit out of the airport any faster by doing so. In this case it totally hampered anyone's ability to help anyone that actually needed help. Still surprised no one died, yet eventually all departed. The elderly lawn bowlers from Italy headed off to somewhere on the island in a bus whilst we were greeted by Offspring no.1 and (now rebadged) Son In Law To Be (SIL2B). Pretty darn exciting to catch up on the other side of the planet and even more so to have a rebadging which means an extension to the fam. Having recently lost both MIL and FIL in a short period of time its great to get a new SIL to help keep the generational flow a thing. So they packed us up in their hired jalopy and took us up to the palace which is to be our residence for the next week.
Geebers, this place is seriously luxurious.

The pics will describe it far better than this bloggers usually over the top verbiage could even attempt to. Best we remain focused on the dynamics.
We're here at the incredibly generous invitiation of SIL's (dropping the 2B as its a fait accomlli) immediate family. His folks, his sibling and just married partner. So we've been invited to their honeymoon. In a mansion. On a hillside overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.

 Where the temperature got to a marvelous 32 today because they have a thing here that Albania and Corfu don't. It's called wind. Not the hurricane stuff that destroys towns, more the gentle sea breeze stuff that gently wipes away the sweat off your brow as you decide whether to take a dip in the pool or fill up your glass of Apperol Spritz from the jug on the table...or just do both. It's that kind of wind.
We're here for a week, so no need to labour the the usual overthetop descriptive details at this point. They can come out over time...or they may not as this blogger could just give up, relax and enjoy  (and go to bed early).
But not now as we have an afternoon and evening to capture.
Afternoon :  lounging around the pool
Evening : Maddie kindly played taxi diver ferrying the eight of us (in one car, multiple trips) to an unbelievably great local restaurant for dinner. Thought last nights fine dining ("I catch the fish myself") restaurant was good -  needed to compare by having the same dish and it was without a doubt a level up.

The company was great, the conversation flowed, as did the wine with the food.

Madds then ferried us all home again. To do this she is captaining the red mule (they don't have horses in Greece they're no good for the steep terrain). Its a tiny little Fiat that can squeeze in five fully grown humans of Northern European decent and still close the doors. Just. It's a manual and she was multitasking with great skill. Weaving in and out in the tight narrow streets, navigating through a myriad of confusing interconnected tracks while flicking the gears, working the clutch and reving the engine to its seemingly extent in order to keep the heavy load on the move. Also providing commentary along the way. A right royal sterling job.

Just like beggars canyon back home. 
Back home to our separate wing in the palace to pen these words .. trying to come to grips with it all.

Two Forts

The world keeps on giving, even when you've set yourself up for a quiet day, when being a stranger in a strange land something is always going to jump out at you and make you realise that unless you're in your nice little comfortable home bubble things are totally outside your control. And you have no choice but to go with the flow.

In this specific circumstance its the summer solstice. Longest day of the year. Saturday night.

Apparently therfore the Greeks celebrate by having world music day. This means all over the country (including the Ionioan Islands obviously) they put on events. Here in the main park,  which is nestled between the Old Fort and (yep you guessed it) the New Fort, we are currently experiencing the aural and visual experience of multiple cultures (that's actually in theory only as they all sound the same bazzooki music to this untrained ear). Each are having their shot at dressing up in thier traditional gear and strutting their stuff to their traditional music. The sound system is much louder than the bands across the road restaurant last night and they did not do Zorba the Greek.
Must be pretty uncomfortable in all that heavy clothing, line dancing on the hard cobblestone in this oppressive heat. At least the sun has gone down so the need to shade chase has finished for the day. This was the end of the day gift to us. Instead of sleep, our views from the room with the aircon on and the shutters flung wide provided a priceless perspective of the revelries below. Really wanted to contribute to the multicultural atmosphere by casting an Aussie salute out there from above, however Aussie,Aussie,Aussie, Oui,Oui,Oui may have diminished proceedings instead of enhancing them.
The day had started with grand plans to catch a local bus to a local town and check out their authenticness vibe and maybe a dip at their beach before catching the local bus back again. It was a great plan. Totally scuppered by sleeping in until 10:00am by which time it is already seriously hot and even the locals have their eye on the approaching siesta period. Needing breaky and coffee we wandered into the old town and had the great idea of a little place that does pastries and ice cream. And they have a coffee machine. Non-Blogger asked for the late's to be extra hot and lo and behold....she used the milk frother. The sound was music to our ears, the coffee was great and the pastries... well let's not get too carried away here. Needless to say the experience was better than a traditional eggs on toast, plus cereal, plus bacon plus beans plus sausages plus jam plus butter plus juice and......woops.... first world problem complaining about buffet breakfasts...need to get back on track.
We then parted ways. Gave ourselves a rendezvous and a timeslot of an hour (not so clever of us with all this tech that we don't have free comms...another story maybe). Non-Blogger went shopping. Blogger went fort hunting. To the Old Fort. Given the time constraints, the distance, the oppressive heat it was challenge undertaken with the same attitude as all other castle challenges.

That being it has to present the best views in town, so get to the top. That's why they put them there in the first place. So when their societies collapse and thier personal stories have eroded away to just being particles of dust in the desert of time that is the collective bowl of human history, their mountains remain. So we can climb them as tourists centuries later. Why? Well, because they are there. Anthropologists love wading around in the dust, indentifying specific bits , threading them together, using supposition to construct stories on which UNESCO can build business cases to warrant the expenditure of walkways to enable throngs of tourists to visit the tops of these mountains. All at the cost of 6 euros each.
Not bad value actually (although expect a law suite one day based on they could've done something more about the now worn, slippery rocks). Could have spent more time there but time was of the essence and thus didn't.

Managed to get to the top, be impressed by the views. Lots of dust items ignored  (e.g. the prisoners cells, the church, the armaments, the cafe`, the museum, the private beach etc.). Bypassed due to time constraints as well as a belief that if one could really be bothered,  one could imagine any dustlike story that befitted (say) that well over there (currently dry exposing all the coins previously deposited... why do people do that?).
Dripping in the heat, this blogger made it out alive, stumbing back over the uneven surfaces of the old town to the rendevous. Awkwardly, the place narrows in sections that it's difficult to avoid contact. With a dripping, glowing red unit looming at them it was not too difficult to barge though to get to the meeting point only a few minutes late.
Job done.
Learning from the locals we then hung in the cool of the room to avoid the serious heat belting down outside, emerging at an appropriate time in order to go shopping for a new hat. The old one still soaked in sweat and stained from a weeks wear in the boiling sun.
Did I mention it is hot?
The old town is a rabbit warren of narrow twisting cobblestone streets with no set plan and very few dead ends, ideally suited to getting lost in and then popping out into familiar spots. The buildings are ramshackle 4 stories high, all jambed together with an obvious long history of engineering and construction over the centuries.

A plethora of speciality stores create a kaleidoscope of colours, aromas, languages and skin tones. All for the express purpose of moving euros around. Yesterday the place was jamb packed, today less so. This is because there is only one monster cruise liner in the port, as compared to the previous day's four.
Sitting outside a wine bar in the shade watching people take photos of themselves on the steps leading up to the church was fun.

Then the doors actually opened and we saw the local priests receiving handouts and passing out blessings in response. Got the hat and then after visiting the another shop so many times non-blogger had the idea of asking the gorgeous Ukrainian shop assistant where a good place for dinner would be. That turned into yet another adventure as the instructions were to leave the old town, go through a tunnel and turn left. This turned out to be through the bones of the new fort. So two forts in incl. two tunnels in one day. The fish restaurant turned out to be fine dining and extremely popular. As we were early they let us in and a while later the dripping stopped, shirts dried out and fabulous meals of pasta and seafood were consumed. Reasonably expensive but once again well worth it.

Wandering back into the old town we returned to the same joint for a nightcap and more taking photos of people taking photos of themselves.
Back to room right on sunset to spot a crowd of kids dressed up, chanting on their way to the park. The reasons became apparent as previously described.

Key ingredients

Timing is the key ingredient to successful travel, especially when companies insist. e.g. car hire versions insisting thier property is returned by a specified hour, transport versions insisting you arrive a specified time before departure, companions insisting on visiting certain locales. It's all a juggle in the jungle (of possible outcomes). Knowing the distance, the road, the car, the times and desires in order to get to the port city of Saranda we were both up at the first sound of the sparrows this morning, packed up our lives into the four bags, lugged 'em back down the 40 steps, loaded the car and slipped away from the beach strip with no-one noticing, apart from the goat herder just around the first corner. He would've noticed non-blogger taking a picture of him and his flock and thus continued his contemplation about how much his home has been transformed recently. Goats were not bred for bitumen, sure they'll adapt to the surface, yet slowly and inevitably they'll be kicked out of thier generational home territory. Bumper bars tend to do that over time unfortunately.

The roads were starkly quiet as per yesterday and we made good time weaving in and out, over and around the never ending winding roads. The usual suspects were waiting for the local bus whist the rising sun and the views of the mountains and steep valleys were obscured somewhat by the smoke of forrest fires burning somewhere.
We left particularly early in order to head a bit further south to check out the town of Ksamil as apparently they have the best beaches in Albainia...with real sand. A slight navigation error lost us about 5 minutes and a bit of stress, however we did get there before their day had really started. Yes they do have sand beaches.

Perfectly groomed, adorned with yet more couches and umbrellas. There is no such thing as a quiet beach in this country anymore. All have been commercialized. Not sure how these facilities would be when every bench is adorned with folk. We loved Himare, mostly because we were enjoying extremely low occupancy rates. When they hit 100% it would interesting to see. Transpose the crowd from a busy city street and put it on a beach, it's still a crowd. Albeit with significantly less attire.
So we checked out the locale (not sure if it's worth returning). The plan was to have the morning coffee whilst there and that worked out well as we found a thumping, jivin` place open with only staff inside.

We were thier first customers and set vibe for the place for the rest of the day (not) by being aged, greying, red and wrinkled Aussies ordering big coffees (late`) and water. Suspect they had a good laugh when we left. I don't know, maybe so. Doesn't matter as it was a great coffee and we had a boat to catch. So still on time , headed back to the port for a whole lot of chaos to ensue. This is where the timing scenario really kicked in.
The roads were gridlocked, took a while to figure out why, suspect it was due to a traffic cop who simply was not paying any sort of attention to traffic flow. We got through without stress because we had time to spare due to the forementioned early departure. Got to the port and had no idea where to give the piece of junk up to. Eventually this blogger took the Albanian way and illegally parked, blocking the road and causing yet another traffic jam. This was also across from the police station, just to give it extra poignancy. All in order get out of it and to find out where this piece of crap was meant to be deposited. If that idiot in the Merc keeps yelling and beeping his horn there is every likelihood that it will end up being deposited within him.
One week in a country and you're almost a local.
Finally got it all sorted thanks to the friendly guard at the port (should've gone down there in the first place as it turns out). A bit of ticketing angst, got that sorted out by asking another guard at the port only to find our boat had been canceled. However, due the aforementioned early departure they could put us on an hour earlier one. Woo Hoo. Even had time to reconioter, double back and do a cash exchange (required in country as nobody will accept Leks outside Albainia), non-blogger doubled back to give the begging lady some food. We queued, on the terminal hiding from the sun (did I say that it's hot?) and finally got out of there, majestically plying the waters of the Ionian Sea just like the Venetians did all those centuries ago (well may be a bit quicker, but still, the same route).
Here we are in Corfu. In Greece. The room overlooks the port. Its on the 4th floor. The hotel has a lift reminiscent of on we had in Barcelona (so it's clunky and cool....would not pass standards at home).

We are in the UNESCO heritage listed old town area and are therefore once again overwhelmed with sensory overload.
Cross a strait of water. Let two people handle your passport and the price of a drink triples. And they do this without haldron collider. Incredible.
Your blogger was somewhat stressed about SIM cards which worked and then didn't and then did and then didn't again. So much so, we created something to do which was to find a Vodafone shop. Which we did but they were of no use as their job is to sell stuff, not support stuff which has been previously sold elsewhere.
So we decided to wander about the old city and just get lost and thus see what happens. Observations later. Needless to say it's pretty amazing.
Dinner was extremely filling (chicken giros) and the room with a view transpires to have it own bazookie band next door.
Now heard Zorba the Greek 3 times in 2 days. A tad concerned here about what is going transpire on that score.

The views out the window (we even have our own historical balcony outside) are fabulous.. All thanks to non-blogger who booked them on purpose. Best include planning as a key ingredient as well.

Albania - A parting shot

This is a country which has been involved one way or the other of every significant historical event in the development of our race (that being us humans). They own the lands they reside on through the fact they have done so for countless generations. They have suffered extreme indignity over those generations because they live in a strategic important locale when considering all their neighbors.

Consequently they have developed their own culture, their own pride, based on very strong and well balanced behaviors. They know what it takes to get along with each other. They are friendly and willing to embrace people from other lands (this means going to the effort of learning multiple languages to accommodate them) in order to make the most of what they are.
They are strong, they have spent countless generations of their societal evolution being subjected to forces trying to undermine their underlying understanding that we as a human race need to get along to survive and when we get it right - we thrive.
The Albanian people have moved forward enormously over the last 30 years. They could easily throw it away (this is their lesson for all of us), indeed they know because they have done so in the past. I.e. after WW2 they voted in who they thought was the right person, who ended up being a dictator and drove the country into abject poverty and suppression for two generations). They have challenges when mapping their way forward, given where they have recently come from though, you can see they have fresh memories to base future decisions on.
It's not that hard.
Lest we forget.

Lounging on lounges

Months of planning had led to this mornings adventure. When deciding which places to visit a study of the country's road maps had revealed a significant zig zag on the coast road. Temptation enough for this blogger. As we had no real reason to traverse this particular stretch, it was always at the back of mind to see if it could be squeezed into to itinerary some how. The piece of junk we call a car was a major setback, as it's ability to climb hills comfortably, is limited. The gearbox screams loudly going up and the same noise going7 down due to its strange gear selections. The roads out this way are tricky and full of drivers who seem to take delight in yelling abuse at outoftowners who don't mind waiting 15 seconds for a stream of cars to safely pass before moving on. Roadworks, kamikaze Mercedes, cops pulling people over for no apparent reason, extreme heat. It was all transpiring against the notion of adventure. Still the zigzag called, knowing we'd never come this way again - it reached out, never relenting in its pressure to be traversed. A plan hatched itself over the course of the last two days. The answer to all these negatives was to do it early in the morning....Before the traffic and the heat and no pressure to power up the hill, just let the gearbox do what it could with no angst from aggressive locals.

Leaving non-blogger snoozing, blogger and the junkmobile headed out before sunrise to execute a brilliant piece of logistical planning. It was worth it. The only people on the road were those gents waiting for the local bus and a couple of slow vehicles smartly delt with in order to keep the camera vision clear.

The zigzag was hair raising and ear popping. Limited photos for the blog as it was hands on the wheel and no stopping because of the clear road in front. Got all the way to the top, changed camera batteries and went all the way back down again. The mountains and views spectacular.  Clear roads except for a herd of goats lounging on the bitumen and a wandering donkey who actually had good road sense (the goats don't) Back in bed by 7:30. Job done.  The piece of junk has one more day to survive.
The previous days exploratory episode had made us realise our beach with free parking and free lounges and umbrellas is as good as any other so we spent the whole day there doing nothing much. The fact that the family next to us has spent thier entire week on these benches and in the water that must say something about the spot. Somehow they are spending all day in the sun and not getting burnt, whereas we turn red in few minutes without protection.
The wind has gone.

The sun is beating down on everything.
Did I say it's hot?
The water is now much warmer on top and now seemingly chilly down a bit (feet depth). There are no tides here. That is really quite wierd. Must be due to the sea being enclosed. Could look it up but it's to hot. The constant move of the lounges to stay in the shade has been slowed down a bit by hanging the towels off the edge of the umbrella. That's pretty much the only effort one can undertake in this heat.

People drift in and out of the water and the lounges. There is always a the strange languages being spoken, hard to tell the difference between one or the other but it is fun trying. Rarely an English word appears and then it drifts away across the water. There are not many people here (still) so we've taken over 3 lounges. Local kids (one called Mario because his name constantly gets called) play in the water whilst an older brother keeps an eye on them. He is not grumpy about it, could be due to the bevey of beauties from Germany, lounging around one row back from the water. He served breakfast earlier on so its obvious its a big extended family owning, running and living in this idealic locale. As the sun looses it's sting, it's still hot but becoming more bareable. It's now only 37.
Thinking about wandering up the strip to get some cash to pay for all of this from the stand alone ATM. Another modern necessity required to support the whole scenario.
The Greek Islands beckon on the horizon. Tomorrow we go to that one.

After a wash down back at the room, we had pre`s at a funky (very recently built - with not to spec joists or possibly posts or possibly both, however is does have grass which makes it stand out, yet the loos are not yet finished) Beach bar, as a cooling breeze finally washed in off the sea.

Once again the soccer is dominating the aural landscape. This time its the Poms vs. Danes. Very glad not to be in Frankfurt at the moment as we all know the poms visiting fans are the most obnoxious on the planet.
Dinner was a case of one serving ordered too many and subsequently for the first time in a long time the plates were not emptied. Really good fresh food at great prices. The mussels were awesome.

P.S. It's this blogs first birthday. A years worth of posts, including this one.(365). To celebrate its Kiwi chocolate (for some obscure reason bought with us) paired with a North Macedonian red. How very poignant.

Three beaches

By the time dawn was breaking with a soft orange light slowly making the features of the scene below our balcony, the cacophony of humanity in the evening past had given over to the cacophony of swifts communicating furiously to each other and thus owning this slot of the daily schedule. They've always done this in these parts, ever since the mountains rose up and began their crumbling dance, these guys have been adapting to what ever gets thrown at them. No doubt adapted how to build their nests out of secretions against solid brick walls when the Roman's first started replicating cliffs with useful overhangs all those years ago. They adapted and got along whilst all their compatriates fell by the wayside as their natural environments were consumed by humankind's insatiable appetite. And so they own the morning sunrise slot. We know this because we had to have the door open because we could not get the air-conditioning to work. Yes folks. This was epiphany time. Shut the door. The aircon can be turned on. Open the door, it turns off. In the warm glow of the sunrise the sensor switch is quite obvious. Still,  one bonus of all this is the sunrise was there to behold with an accomplimentory musical symphony created by nature (as opposed to boomboxes).
Took a photo, shut the door, turmed the aircon on, went back to bed.

At the proper human time of the morning our cacophony of cars, circular saws and the cries of indignation kids had taken over as we had breakfast in the restaurant we'd had dinner in the night before. It was good, certainly enough to hatch plans to find another beach, just because we can. On the way we drove back into Himare proper. More innertown Albanian chaos. Navigating twisting tight roads, people everywhere, cars parked with reckless abandon, no care they're blocking the through traffic. Managed to find our way to a nice beach, with free shade under an established tree and a parking spot. Not believing our luck we didn't hang around as this was just a reconioter, not a destination. Across the road was however a shop selling stone beach footware of which we fussed a bit and eventually got what we wanted and headed of back through the narrow crowded streets to hit the road in search of Gjipe Beach.
Took a major miss and double back to get there but we did.
The road in is single car/both way. This means if you come up against someone coming the other way. Someone has to relent and reverse back to the last passing bay. There is no forgiveness as the gutters are straight up and high, not possible for your average sedan to mount. Luckily on the way in we were not confronted by an oncoming vehicle. Was nerve racking though considering what could have transpired.
The wierd road ended in carpark with huge signs saying we'd need to pay for the privilege for doing so. 400 Leke (say $8 Au) the service we receive for this expense is the direction to park the car in the next obvious vacant space and to receive change if you don't have the correct amount. See...the locals are cottoning on how to fleece tourists. Put up a sign and people will follow,  Regardless of how unofficial it is. The guy also directed us to the path to the beach. Obviously still high up we asked how far it was. 20 minutes was the response. Yeah right. This is a foot path from hell. Big rocks jutting out amongst smaller ones ankle twisting their positions with no symmetry on stepping rhythms. Half way down tyre tracks were noticed in the sparce soil. As it transpires its a seriously difficult 4WD track that is traversed a few times a day. Need a seriously well built high-off-the- ground vehicle to do so though. Suspect it was originally built during the fascists regime era as there are a few intact bunkers perched on the slopes next to the track.
Did I mention it is hot?
No wind, no breeze it seemed to take a long time to get to the bottom where a magical beach scene opened up.
There was no going back so basically committed for the day. For 2000 Leke (approx $30aud) we got an umbrella and deck chairs.

Had to do it (albeit with dwindling cash supplies) and then spent the next few hours, lolling around on the benches, adjusting positions to stay in the shade with multiple dips into the warm, salty, buoyant, crystal clear waters of the Ionian Sea, all the whilst watching people's from all over the world doing the same thing. People watching is great fun. Especially when they're wearing very little clothing. Have to mention a group of girls bringing a pet kitten with them. Initially it seemed ridiculous, after watching them all day, good on them.This was finally time to relax, been on the go pretty much nonstop the whole trip so far and here were, effectively stuck because of the single vehicle road leading in, paid for the whole day for the furniture (which by the way - last of the front row - timing win yet again) and in no particular hurry to traverse that horrible track again to get back to the car (and thus to home). Relaxing was undertaken. There was a nice cooling breeze. That stopped, comfort levels dropped, breeze came back, comfort levels rose. It was a fabulous and memorable beach experience. By the time we figured there were enough departing to make the inevitable road standoff in our favor the breeze had decided to depart again. The treak back up took 35 minutes and was enough exercise for the week. This place is definitely for fit young peeps, us oldies are probably an ambulance ride away from realizing we shouldn't be there. Nuhh bugger that - we got though -  even non-blogger in slippery wet thongs got through it unscathed.

Hot and bothered, the drive back home was on incredibly quiet roads as the locals were all watching their team take on Croatia in the football. This is a big thing. They actually managed to do pretty well against the odds so we're now also on board. Got back to our own beach for another dip before heading up to the Blue Oyster Bar for dinner. That's not actually it's name but had to use it for the ongoing joke.

Dinner overlooking the sunset across the waters to Greek Islands in the distance was ... oh I don't know... how many blinking appropriate words do I need to come up with here... unforgettable (well if I describe it here well enough then I won't forget it I guess). Literally perched above the water, we're looking out South to islands. Eastwards is the town with the big screen TV on the shore with the mountains as a backdrop with the old castle perched on a smaller outcrop. With lowering sun casting shadows into the steep valleys highlighting their shapes even more. Pretty cool.

Then the moon came up. A bit fuller and thus closer to the terminator. By the time the zorba the Greek started blaring out the speakers  (the footy had finnished) the moon light reflections sparking of the water seemed to be in time with it.
The footy was great by the way. Predicted it would impact the locals and it did. The guy allocated to us totally forgot about us whilst the next game was on. Care factor here - zero. The eventually delivered grub was amazing. The location and the ambiance was unforgettable (hopefully so after all that verbiage).
Cost $130 aud.
Welcome to Albainia.